


The Last Untold Secret of Anthony Edward Stark

by firelord_zutara



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Dancing, Fluff, M/M, tony is dancing what more do you want
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-12
Updated: 2015-06-12
Packaged: 2018-04-04 01:07:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4120762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/firelord_zutara/pseuds/firelord_zutara
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Jarvis, drop my needle."</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Last Untold Secret of Anthony Edward Stark

**Author's Note:**

> This video is important:  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eAgqgfKgGpI
> 
> Thank you guys, hope you like it :)

One thing that was amazing about the new millennium? Television.

Well alright, for Steve that might’ve been a bit of an exaggeration. TV, it seemed, was somewhat of a hit or miss with him (as were a lot of other things, but that was a discussion for another time). Some shows he found to be quite enjoyable; The Office was rather funny (Tony or sometimes Clint filling him on the references he didn’t get most of the time), as was Game of Thrones (a bit having to do with the fact that it was fantasy, and thus no modern culture references).

Some of it, of course, he could go without. Often, Tony went on and on about Star Trek, but Steve had to admit he didn’t see the appeal of it -- Tony wouldn’t talk to him for 27 hours afterward he’d discovered such intel. Others were just awful, like those dumb reality shows which even Steve could tell were in fact, not actual reality. Or they were, but just heavily scripted. Or something.

The one that Tony picked out today, however, was actually rather funny. Or well, it was supposed to be, considering the rest of the team kept cracking up over it.

Whose Line is it Anyway, it what it was called. The jokes he did get were honestly quite hilarious, but there were many that Steve, of course, did not understand (Clint kept explaining the sexual references to him -- in the manner one would explain the migration of geese to a kindergartner -- but those actually he had no problem with most of the time). It was the pop culture that threw him off. 

Currently, Wayne Brady was in the middle of singing a song to a rather pretty lady who went by Sam (who was, indeed, an aerobics instructor). The song he was singing was in the style of something called ‘Riverdance’, which Steve had never seen before.

This came as a bit of a surprise at first since both Tony and Clint insisted to introduce him to somewhat modern and completely modern dance (although he had to admit, it made him a bit uncomfortable at first). The latter he wouldn’t even consider dancing so much as ass wiggling, but hey. Wasn’t the weirdest thing he’d seen, in this century nor the last; not by a long shot. 

After Clint had shown him twerking -- with Thor preceding to mimic the dance move for three days on end -- Steve’s reservations about dancing had diminished. That, most definitely, was not dancing, despite the fact that the video of the norse god performing the act had nearly fifty million hits on youtube in a matter of days; thanks to Clint, of course.

But riverdancing? Completely foreign. And admittedly, he was drawn to it. The way their feet moved was almost hypnotizing, sharp yet graceful. The fact that Tony muttered under his breath something about the dance being more complicated than they were making it seem only peaked his curiosity. 

“What did you say?”

At that, Tony blinked, meeting Steve’s eyes. There was something in them, their wide, bright stare, that made the man cock his head, somewhat confused.

“About what?” Tony deadpanned.

Yeah. Something was up.

“About riverdancing? You said this is inaccurate, what’s it really like?”

Tony barked out a laugh, a tight smirk growing across his face. “Oh yes, Steve, I would know that because I am clearly an expert on riverdancing. Why do you even care so much? It’s just a stupid dance. I mean I know I am Tony Stark, and therefore a genius, but that doesn’t mean I know about every stupid dance that was invented and perfected between now and the forties. There’s the internet for a reason, Capsicle. Or Jarvis, just ask Jarvis. God.”

And with that, Tony swept himself to his feet, darting out of the room and toward the elevator, leaving Steve even more confused, and somewhat ticked off.

“Oh...kay?” It came out more like a question than Steve intended, but hell. That was weird.

“That was weird.” Bruce mumbled, reading his mind, with Thor nodding in agreement.

“Hey, it’s Stark,” Natasha interjected, “I’m sure what he did before breakfast was weirder than that.”

And with that they all nodded, then preceded to go back to the show. Steve, however, was no less confused nor comforted.

\----

“Jarvis, drop my needle.”

Tony did a lot of stupid things to avoid his problems. Or himself. Well, in most cases his problems happened to be himself. And in general, he just did stupid shit.

Whatever, it didn’t matter. Sometimes, he just needed a distraction; a distraction that couldn’t be fueled by booze, sex, or tinkering. It’d been amped up since his little soiree in Afghanistan, but even before his little diddly-do-da-fun vacation, he’d needed distractions. Obie was always up his ass with something or another, and sometimes, sometimes he just needed to let go. 

So, he riverdanced. And it was stupid and dumb and completely lame and he loved it.

Well alright, love was probably too strong a word. But he liked it, he liked it very much. 

In some ways, the best part was that no one knew. The paparazzi was always getting their grubby little hands on everything ‘Stark’, whether it be Tony himself or Iron Man. Or his company. Or...whatever. Either way, they knew everything from what his favorite shawarma restaurant was, to whatever no name girl or guy he would take home for a quickie. 

(The more embarrassing stuff, such as Tony getting too drunk at a gala, vomiting onto the feet of some girl he didn’t know the name of, then proceeding to kiss her -- and she let him, becuase hey, he was TonyFuckingStark-- ending with them making out and nearly having public sex across the wetbar of the ballroom wasn’t exactly secret, but was desperately attempted at being covered up by Pepper, so he supposed it wasn’t a real secret to the media. Eh. Whatever). 

But nobody knew that he riverdanced, nor that he was, in fact, quite good at riverdancing. The latter part could probably be assumed considering who he was, but hey. 

Not even Pepper knew. That’s how secret it was. And Pepper, his sweet sweet Pepperoni, had stuck her hand inside his chest as she grappled at wires. She’d done a lot of shit for him, and knew things about him that Tony himself probably wasn’t aware of. 

(See: Covering Up His Drunken and Drugged Up Sexual and Political Mishaps).

But, she didn’t know he riverdanced.

He knew he was stupid for storming out of the room; Steve didn’t know his dirty little secret, he was merely asking a question. But still, it hit a nerve somewhere within him, making him short circuit and become far too jumpy. So he’d left, before he could say anything else stupid.

Now thinking about it, he supposed that even if Steve did know, it wouldn’t be the end of the world. 

Huh. Weird. 

If Clint knew, however, it most certainly would be the end of the world, with Tony probably being the one who would end up destroying his lab by blasting out the spy cams that Clint would most certainly bug his workshop with. 

Pulling himself from his thoughts, Tony in a deep breath, the sounds of irish folk music filling his ears and clearing his mind. 

And with that, he danced.

He danced, he fucking danced. No one taught him the moves, he just picked them up on his own. It seemed easier than it was, but so did building a miniaturized arc reactor in a cave with a box of scraps. 

Well alright, maybe not. But still.

The music picked up, as did his feet, nearly moving completely on muscle memory. It had been a beautiful thing, getting to the point where he could just move not having to think about every single foot placement, every single turn and twist and stomp and kick. Almost like taking the suit for a joyride.

No thinking. Just letting go.

“Sir, Steve Rogers is requesting entry.”

Still caught up in his dance, Tony spared a quick glance to the side of his workshop. The glass was tinted, of course, as was standard protocol whenever he instructed Jarvis to drop the needle. 

“Denied.”

“He’s threatening to use override codes.”

“Hmm. Who gave him those?” Only Pepper, he thought, had those, and in all honesty it was a very last resort for her; she had enough respect to give Tony his privacy. Besides, Jarvis would inform her if Tony was in any real danger, and override the damn codes himself. 

“You did, sir.” Jarvis drawled, a hint of sarcasm in his tone.

So why in hell had he given the code to Steve, too?

Oh yeah. Because he was SteveFuckingRogers.

Ugh.

He rolled his eyes, weaving his legs as he turned ninety degrees. “Yeah well whatever, deny-”

Too late. 

 

The door swung open, with Tony feeling much like a deer caught in the headlights--except there were no headlights, only Steve’s wide, blue eyes and there was no deer, only TonyFuckingStark who was caught mid pose, music still blaring.

Fuck.

“Jarvis, what the fuck? I told you lockdown, lockdown.”

“Yes, sir, of course, but you also told me that such a lockdown could be overridden by your specified override codes.”

“Yeah, well I didn’t think I gave them to anybody!” Besides Pepper, anyway.

But of course, if he’d given them to Pepper, he’d given them to Steve. Of course.

“That, sir, is not something I had any control over.”

Tony sighed, rubbing a hand through his head. “I swear I’m replacing you with Friday and donating you to-”

“To a community college, yes Sir, I’m quite aware. Do you wish me to cut the music so you can have a conversation with the still present Captain Rogers?”

“Fuck,” Tony muttered, Steve’s existence coming back to the front of his mind. “Yeah, sure, whatever.”

The music stopped, and Steve spoked. “I uh, is this a bad time?”

“‘Course not, Cap, what would make you think that, you silly goose?”

He blinked, irritation lingering on his face, but quickly morphing into something resembling amusement. “Were you riverdancing?”

“No! Cap I know you can’t get drunk and all, but are you high? What is it, weed? Crack? Please don’t tell me heroine, I had a run in with that shit once back in-”

Steve stepped closer, his slight smile growing into a full on smirk. “You were riverdancing, weren’t you?”

“Cappity Cap Cap, are you insane? I-”

“Tony,” he started, stepping even closer, close enough to feel Steve’s hot breath on his own skin. He nearly shuddered. “I came down here, demanding an explanation for your weird, and frankly rude,behavior,” he paused, jabbing a finger into Tony’s chest, just below the arc reactor. “But, I think now I know the answer.”

“Steve, really, are you-?” 

“Tony, please, for once in your existence, do not lie to me.”

Tony sighed, head spinning as he backed up from Steve, ungluing his brown eyes from the other man’s totally not breathtaking blues. “Yes, yes alright I was riverdancing, okay? Are you happy? Congrats, Oh Captain My Captain, you’re the first man in existence, well besides Jarvis, if you want to count him--not Dummy though, Dummy doesn’t count. Butterfingers maybe, whatever--to know that I, Tony Stark, riverdance, I fucking riverdance and I swear to God if you ask me how to work your camera phone or god forbid go get Clint and demand that you record me doing the damn thing I swear to God one of you will wake up underwater in Venezuela tomorrow and it’ll most likely be Clint -- but Steve, I need this, I really need-”

With a sense of smitten confidence Tony didn’t even know Steve possessed when it came to this, the man placed a chaste kiss onto Tony’s babbling lips, effectively cutting off his monologue and making his brain whirl impossibly, impossibly faster. 

“I think it’s cute.”

And with that, Steve spun around and left the workshop, leaving Tony uncharacteristically flushed, and even more uncharacteristically flustered.


End file.
